


Almost Nothing

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-10
Updated: 2003-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whitney never liked Sirk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Nothing

## Almost Nothing

by Lucia

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/luciamad>

* * *

Note: I'm immersed in Faulkner lately, that might explain some things. Or not... 

* * *

The quarterback was back. Lex had seen him. There was something different about his eyes and the way that he carried himself. Clark and he seemed to pick up where they left off, this time without the Lana nonsense. Lex was glad that Clark had finally stopped talking about her, but he had also stopped coming by the mansion as much. Lex would only see Clark during the chance meetings around town and at the Talon, usually accompanied by the quarterback. Clark didn't ignore him, things were just different. 

"Hey Lex!" 

"Clark, it's been a while...Whitney." 

"I've been meaning to come by, it's just...you know how it is." 

"Yes. Would you like to join me, do some catching up?" 

"I actually can't right now. Whitney's helping me run some errands for the farm. Stocking up for winter and all. We were just ducking in here so I could run to the bathroom. I'll be right back." 

Whitney stood there with his hands shoved in his pockets looking everywhere but at Lex. 

"Do you want to sit down Whitney?" Lex thought that he should at least try to get to know the boy who stole his friend. 

Whitney shuffled his feet and decided that he should be somewhere else. "Actually, I have to go to the bathroom too." 

Lex caught his arm as he tried to escape. "Don't hurt him." It sounded more pathetic than it should have. 

Whitney stopped shuffling and looked down at Lex, "I don't intend to." 

"I know all about intentions." 

"I will not hurt him." 

Lex had said that before. "It might be inevitable." 

"I don't believe in fate." Whitney shook Lex's arm off and walked away. 

This would be their only exchange. 

* * *

Whitney brought stories with him when he returned to Smallville, stories that got Clark out of Smallville. In exchange for the stories, Clark would paint pictures with the stars. Most times they didn't talk though. They'd lie on their backs and watch the stars slowly move. 

Whitney was propped up on his elbows looking out past the tree line. His elbows started to tingle. He watched Clark watch Orion rise above the horizon. Clark turned his head so Whitney leaned over and kissed him. It seemed an afterthought. He watched Clark stop and then he laid back down. 

"What was that?" 

Whitney was looking at the sky, "Just a kiss." He smiled and eyed Clark. "Why? What'd you think it was?" 

Clark kept looking at him for a while and then tried to find the Big Dipper. 

* * *

Whitney was in the loft that was still just a loft. He was waiting for Clark. It hadn't been that long since the kiss, but he knew that Clark would be thinking. A loft couldn't just be a loft with him. 

Then Clark was there and they were talking about school and work and it was the same but a little tentative. Clark kept talking and started tracing the seam of Whitney's jeans with his finger. He stopped talking but kept tracing and watching his hand, head inclined toward Whitney. 

"Why are you here?" 

"You asked me to come over." 

Clark looked at him, "Funny." 

"You asked. I wanted to. I did. Can't it be that simple?" 

"No. You're playing games with me. I like you because you're clear, not vague. I don't want to guess with you." 

Whitney sat back and regarded Clark. "...I like you...this. I won't hurt you. I won't end this." He slid into Clark's space, onto his sides, and waited. 

Clark didn't mind the invasion. He breathed in, Whitney breathed out, and he thought that it meant something so he kissed him. He prodded and pulled and then stopped. "Me too." 

* * *

They were in the loft. They were always in the loft, but this time it was a Saturday. Whitney fell asleep on the couch while Clark was doing homework. While he was sleeping, Clark noticed a square inch of exposed skin just above Whitney's waistband. It looked soft, but he didn't want to wake Whitney so he just watched the rise and fall. 

_What do you want_? 

_To look at you_ , _and then quickly_ , _just for a while_

* * *

"Hello Clark. Can I get you something to drink?" 

"Water's fine." Clark was sitting in the chair in front of Lex's desk. "Can I talk to you about something?" 

Lex handed him the TyNant without letting their hands accidentally touch and leaned against the desk. "Is this something you and the quarterback?" 

"He has a name." 

Lex shifted his weight. "You like him, don't you?" 

"Is it that obvious?" Clark was using his eyelashes. 

Lex laughed, "No, I've just seen it before." 

Clark leaned forward into Lex's space, "How does it go?" 

Lex maneuvered to the proper side of the desk and sat down. "Telling you would spoil all the fun." Lex was using his swagger. Even seated it worked. "Anyway, it's different every time...So how is it going?" 

"Slow." 

Lex's father had once told him that he could flirt as much as he wanted as long as he didn't touch. It had been a good rule. 

* * *

Whitney's presence at the Kent Sunday dinners was becoming routine. The Kents liked Whitney. After dinner, the boys usually retreated to Clark's room to catch up on homework or something. 

Clark was lying behind Whitney on the bed, his hand resting on the square just under Whitney's shirt and above the waistband. Whitney was telling Clark about the Metropolis weekend that he had planned for them to celebrate three months. Clark listened to the words vibrate across the pillow and wondered how it had already been that long. His mom called up to say that Whitney should be getting home since it was a school night. 

Whitney sat up and started putting on his shoes. "So how does that sound?" 

"Perfect, though I don't know how you think you're getting me into that club." 

"I told you, I know the bouncer from training. He said he would watch for us." 

"Can you really picture me dancing?" 

"All the time." 

Clark laughed and stood. "You'll come by after work?" 

"Yeah." Whitney kissed him and turned to head out, but Clark had stopped. 

"I love you." 

Whitney stopped in the doorway and turned. He looked at Clark for a while and felt older. "I love you too." He stepped across the space and moved to stroke Clark's cheek with his thumb. His eyes were open when he kissed him. Whitney noticed that Clark didn't hold his breath. Clark grinned and pushed Whitney out the door. 

* * *

"Why do we have to go back Whitney? Can't we just stay here a few more days?" Clark was sitting on the bed in their hotel room emptying the suitcase Whitney was trying to pack. 

"You have school tomorrow and I have work." Whitney stopped trying to pack. "Why are you being so weird? Metropolis isn't that great." 

"We danced in a club. We danced together in a club. I could feel you moving next to me without worrying if someone would see us." Clark stepped closer to Whitney and pressed into him. His hands slid their way up Whitney's arms, his eyes following, and stopped on his shoulders with a sigh. "It isn't the loft, that's why I don't want to leave. All the secrets get hard sometimes." 

Whitney pressed back. "I don't know. I think it's kind of sexy, having a secret affair." 

Clark's voice was soft. "Sexy? Sneaking around? Covert glances?" Clark grabbed Whitney by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall, thrusting his tongue down Whitney's throat and grinding insistently into him. He broke the kiss with a lascivious nip and something else. "That's sexy." 

_That's what scared him_. Whitney pulled away rubbing his head. 

Clark snapped back, "Oh God, Whit, I'm sorry. Did I hurt you?" 

Whitney shrugged him off and finished packing, "I'm fine. Let's get out of here." Clark followed him out of the room. 

* * *

The drive home was silent. Whitney watched the light run. It was dark by the time they got back to the farm. Clark was getting out of the truck when Whitney started talking. "Clark, I don't want this to become something dirty." He wasn't looking at Clark. "If you can't take hiding, then go." 

Clark crawled back into the truck and turned Whitney to look at him. "I just lost my mind for a second. I don't want to lose you." 

Whitney studied him for a while. It wasn't soft or insistent when he kissed him. 

* * *

Whitney didn't go by the loft until the next Saturday. He found Clark sitting on the couch, folded over and staring at his shoes. 

"Hey. What are you doing?" Whitney asked as he sat down. 

Clark straightened up. "Hey. Yeah...I'm sorry." 

"For what, finding your shoes fascinating?" 

"I told my parents." 

"What did they say?" 

"My mom pretty much already knew and my dad'll get used to it. Are you mad?" 

"No reason to be." 

Clark looked at him with a half smile and leaned back. Whitney didn't turn so Clark just waited. After a while, Clark tugged on the hem of Whitney's shirt and Whitney leaned back. Whitney needed to shave, but Clark liked the prickle when he brushed against the scruff. "Will you stay the night?" 

"Sounds nice." Whitney was leaning into him and everything was fine. 

That night they fell asleep in boxers and t-shirts, Whitney's arm slung loosely across Clark's chest. 

* * *

Clark hadn't been to see Lex in a few weeks. That was why he was going by. He'd been less cautious of late. That's another reason he was going by. He hadn't noticed if Lex woke up before or after. 

When he arrived at the mansion, Clark was shown to a blank room with a table and Lex. The table held a few artifacts from the past few rescues and some earlier ones. There was still a piece of the Porsche. 

"I thought you got rid of this stuff." 

"Clark, no one gets rid of things, they just shift them around. These objects tell a story, I'm just trying to figure out what it is." Lex took a drink. He didn't often drink around Clark. "Why did you come by Clark? Did you want to check to see if my latest concussion was doing its job to hinder my powers of logic?" 

"Lex, I just wanted to see if you were all right." 

"I'm all right. I was all right last week after that mutant threw me into a wall, and the week before that, but you didn't come by those times. Those times I was out even longer, this time I woke up. I know that's why you came by, Clark. Why can't you just say it?" 

"Why does there always have to be some sort of confession with you?" 

Lex scoffed, "Did your quarterback give you that line?" 

"What's gotten into you?" 

"Some sense...and a little brandy." Lex closed the space between them, his voice like broken glass. "You lie so easily and make me feel like the bad guy." 

Clark tried to change the course of the conversation by adding, "Well, aren't you," but Lex ignored him. "Lex, we've gone through this a hundred times. How many times do I have to tell you that there's nothing more I can say?" 

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much." 

"That's only because you don't listen." 

Lex shook his head. "Get out. Now." 

* * *

Whitney was waiting in the loft when Clark returned from Lex's. Clark sat down and told him about the argument. 

"And then he called me a lady and said I protest too much." 

Whitney just looked at him. "Clark, that's from _Hamlet_." 

"Oh, I probably should have read that." 

"Yeah, and as much as I don't like the guy, you should also go back and work things out with Lex. He's as good a friend to you as you let him be." 

"What is that supposed to mean?" 

"Clark, just go fix things." 

Clark sighed and sulked off into the night. Sometimes Whitney forgot that he was still just a teenager. He watched Clark as long as he could see him. He could sympathize with Lex. It was hard being with someone who was never really there. 

By the time that Clark got back, Whitney had fallen asleep. He woke up when he heard Clark coming up the stairs. 

"How'd it go?" 

Clark flopped down against Whitney. "It was his dad. He said something about how blind Lex is when it comes to me. We're fine now." 

"I'm glad. He's good for you." Whitney brushed Clark's hair from his forehead. 

"He said the same about you." Clark spread himself over Whitney, "You want to stay tonight?" 

"I should actually get going. It's a school night for you and I have to open early." He was still brushing at Clark's hair. 

"Ok." Then Clark let Whitney leave. 

* * *

It was the mornings that Whitney liked the most. He liked to watch Clark wake up. It was always slow and in stages. Clark would start to move more and kick his legs. That's what woke Whitney up all the time. Then his breathing would pick up and he started groaning and making other noises like he was fighting the waking. Eventually, he'd roll over, let out one long breath, and his eyes would flutter open. This was, of course, only without the alarm clock. 

Clark smiled and stretched, "Do you always watch me like that?" 

"It's the only time you're not going anywhere." 

Clark put as much as he could into the words and pressed them into Whitney's chest. "I'm not leaving now." If living on a farm had taught Clark anything, it was that constant pressure, not starts, would get your point across. 

"I know. It's nice to be reminded sometimes though." Whitney groaned and rolled onto his back. "You turn me into such a self-conscious wreck sometimes." 

"I have that effect." 

* * *

Whitney couldn't sleep. Clark had fallen asleep a while ago and Whitney was watching him again. It had been a little over a year or two since he came back to Smallville. Whitney recently noticed a change in the way that Lex acted around Clark. There were more unaverted accidents and less maneuvering. He wondered when Lex had stopped being just Lex. Clark didn't seem to notice the change, at least. Whitney knew he wouldn't sleep so he decided to leave. 

The shift woke Clark. He yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Where are you going?" 

"I should get home." Whitney already had his jeans on. 

Clark drug his feet over the edge of the bed and motioned toward Whitney. "Come here." Whitney fumbled with his shirt for a few seconds before walking to him. Clark ran his hands along the outside seams. They were softer now. "What's going on? You've been acting weird lately." 

Whitney thought about the shirt that he hadn't dropped and looked past Clark. "I'm fine. I just thought I should be going." 

"And you say I'm the one who's always leaving." Clark pulled the shirt from Whitney's hand and dropped it. "Why don't you just talk to me?" He stood and made Whitney look at him. "Don't leave." 

Whitney didn't even know where he would have gone. "Ok." 

Clark smiled and pulled Whitney back onto the bed. "I need you. You make me better, less sullen and broody." He started working on Whitney's jeans. 

"But you're cute when you're sullen." 

Clark threw the jeans on the floor and sat at Whitney's feet. He traced a line from his ankle to his knee. There was nothing under his skin but muscle. Whitney was Whitney. Clark felt the pressure of his thighs, remembered the scratch of his stubble when he kissed him. There was a hand on his back, he thought. 

* * *

"Fuck me." _I didn't feel it_. 

Whitney tried to kiss him. 

Clark pushed him off. "No. Fuck. Me." _I didn't know he stabbed me until I heard the knife shatter_. 

Whitney reached for him. "Clark, what's wrong?" 

Clark let Whitney touch him and then grasped him by the back of the neck and pressed their foreheads together. "Please. Just try, make me feel it, try to hurt me." _Anything I'll feel_ , _make me feel_. 

Whitney thought maybe it was a game so he tried. Clothes scattered and he threw Clark onto the bed. He pinned Clark's hands to the bed and looked down at what he was about to do. But Clark didn't like games. His eyes were empty, he wasn't even there. As Whitney settled to the side of him, Clark rolled away and curled in on himself. Whitney's hand followed into Clark's space. 

"Clark, just talk to me." Then into Clark's shoulder, "I'm not ready to lose you." 

Clark grabbed Whitney's hand. They stayed that way all night. _He worries about losing him_. _He worries about scaring him_. _He's afraid of the day when he will no longer feel him_. 

The next morning Clark woke up first. He thought of a good explanation for the night before while he waited for Whitney to wake up. 

When Whitney woke up, he let Clark get through his explanation. It was something about bad nerve endings affecting how much he feels sometimes. Whitney didn't need it though. "Clark, all I want to know is if you're all right." 

"I'm fine now. I'm sorry if I freaked you out." 

"I was just worried. You know I love you." Whitney looked intently at Clark until he was convinced that he knew. He didn't have a square inch so he just borrowed the lips, dipping inside for a taste of possession. Then he got dressed. 

* * *

Lex had been coming by the loft more often. Whitney always made it a point not to be there when he stopped by. There was something behind his eyes that Clark refused to see. He told himself that it was just one-sided and tried to ignore it. It didn't work. 

"Tell me you've figured it out by now. Tell me you have because if..." 

"It's Lex. Lex? My friend? He is not a threat to you. I don't love him the way I do you. I don't want to..." Clark advanced on Whitney with sex in his voice. 

"Tell me you've never thought about it." 

Clark stopped right in front of Whitney, but didn't touch him. "I had. Back before I knew what it meant, but he wasn't reality. He was an ideal." 

"So you settled for me." 

Clark moved with the words to brush Whitney's cheek, "I fell in love with you," his neck, "You can't love an ideal," and down. "It's meant to be perfect. I can't love something perfect. It's too boring." 

Whitney was slowly breaking. "I wouldn't call Lex perfect or boring." 

"Yeah, but what about my image of him. With you there was no pretense. I want a person, not a pedestal." 

"He wants you." Whitney had his hands in his pockets. 

"He doesn't know what he wants. He just needs a friend." 

"And you're that friend?" Whitney couldn't fault him. Clark could never let anyone fall. Whitney sighed. "You always do this to me? You have such power over me." 

"Who me? I have no power. You're the one with power." Clark pressed into Whitney with his hips and thought for a second. "You set me free." 

It was funny that he said that. Whitney had always hated that rhyme. 

* * *

Whitney was lying on his side of the bed staring out the window, hands folded across his stomach. Whitney stayed on his side more often. He thought that Clark was asleep. 

Clark was on his side, hands curled under his pillow. This was normal now, but he didn't know why. He hadn't changed. Clark moved in and whispered, "Don't leave me," and then back. 

Whitney turned his head, his body following, and smiled. He inched his way closer until their bodies were pressed together. "Can you still feel me?" 

Clark nodded. 

"I'm still here." He pressed a kiss to Clark's chest, teasing a nipple with his tongue. Whitney pulled Clark's boxers off with his left hand, Clark lifted his hips and kicked them off of his ankles. Clark arched and moaned and threw his head back. Whitney just watched the eyes for something he used to see. He didn't like where he was going. He got up as Clark was slinking down his body. Clark had skipped the square inch. 

Whitney walked to the bathroom. Clark followed shortly. He stopped behind Whitney who just turned and started to wipe him off with a warm washcloth. Clark pulled the washcloth from Whitney's hand and threw it into the sink. "Where are you? You keep leaving. All this and you're not even here." 

Whitney looked into the eyes, his hands propped against the sink. "I'm here. I told you." 

Clark shook his head, his breathing a little stilted. "Why don't you believe in this anymore?" 

_Tomorrow_. "I do. I do. It's just been a bad day." 

"How do I get you back?" 

"Be patient. It's all just in my head anyway." 

Clark swayed closer. Whitney stood still. He didn't look up. 

* * *

Tomorrow came and went, but nothing changed. Whitney was downtown to pick something up from the drugstore. As he was walking, he saw Clark and Lex coming toward him on the opposite side of the street. They didn't see him and he didn't make himself known. He saw Lex laugh and clap Clark on the back. Clark leaned into him a little. They walked into the Talon, Lex with his arm still around Clark's shoulders. 

Whitney wondered when he had become so masochistic, as he walked over and looked in the window. He saw the two standing at the counter. Lex had his arms crossed behind his back now. Clark was reading the menu. Whitney watched as Lex turned to watch Clark think. Whitney always thought it was strange that Lex stopped moving when he watched Clark. Lex's hand moved to brush Clark's shoulder. At the contact, Clark turned. Whitney watched Clark stop, usually Lex was the only one. That was all Whitney had to see. 

He didn't know that Clark had just told Lex that he aced a test that he was worried about. He didn't know that there was a piece of lint on Clark's shoulder. 

* * *

"I'm leaving." Whitney stood in the doorway with his jacket. "I just stopped to say goodbye." 

"What? When did this happen?" 

"I got the acceptance letter about a month ago." 

"What about us?" 

"Clark..." Whitney stepped toward him. 

Clark stumbled back like the wind had been knocked out of him. "No, you can't do this, not like this." 

"It's better this way, easier." 

Clark's voice bit. "But why? This makes no fucking sense." 

"You seem to see so much sometimes, I would have thought you'd've seen it coming. You should see the two of you. It's really something." Whitney laughed to himself. "What was it he said? Oh, you guys will be legends. I'm just the footnote that'll help you get there." He let out a breath that he had been holding and turned to leave. As he reached the door, he turned his head. "Don't hate him." Then he was gone. 

Clark stared at the door. He listened until he heard the screen door swing shut. 

_What was that_? _Oh, nothing_. 


End file.
